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Yesterday, I was sorting through a box of my sons' old baby clothes to pick out some pre-loved clothes to give away. Some of the old clothes, I set aside for when my sisters have babies of their own, while the others were earmarked for donation.

I was a bit surprised by how sentimental I felt about packing away the clothes my babies had outgrown and I realized that there were some pieces of clothing that I just couldn't bear to part with, despite how faded and worn-out they were. As I folded the clothes for what may be the last time, I was awash with nostalgia, and I remembered the days we brought them home from the hospital, how scared terrified I was that I wouldn't know how to take care of them, how I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't fail them and that I'd be the mother they deserve. I remember watching them sleep, and thinking how every single part of their little bodies was so perfectly made and I could hardly believe that these wonderful human beings came from my body. I remembered their firsts and milestones: the first time they smiled at me, the first time they laughed, the first time I heard them call me Mama. I remembered the many times I rocked them to sleep and how their small bodies fit so snugly in my arms.

Threadbare pants that morphed from jammies to cut-offs. They're faded from all the washings it took to keep them clean and the holes are byproducts of my sons' crawling adventures.

A set of jammies that were passed down from J to Little C. When I first bought these, Big C and I couldn't believe that a human being could actually fit into these small clothes.

Here's baby J, less than a month old.

And Little C, wearing the same jammies a year and a half later.

I always talk about how fast time flies when you watch kids grow up, but yesterday's task was one of the most concrete reminders that my babies were never going to be that small anymore. Little C's almost done being an infant, and will graduate to toddler status in a few months, while J will soon be a preschooler.

And now look at them. Look at how they've grown.

Here's my big boy J...

... and my not-so-Little C.

It's true what they say. The days are long, but oh my, how short the years really are.